


Razors

by nanjcsy



Series: The Unforgiven [6]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Brainwashing, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Stockholm Syndrome, Straight Razors, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-19 13:44:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1471987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanjcsy/pseuds/nanjcsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ramsay wants to make sure he can trust his new pet with anything and everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Razors

There was so much horror at Dreadfort that Reek had trouble trying to pick a worst thing.  Most painful thing was to be flayed, most humiliating thing was being forced to act the whore.  The scariest thing of all at Dreadfort were eyes.  Ramsay Bolton's eyes were actually a lovely shade of blue, but there was madness, sadism, intense nightmares waiting to unleash.  Those eyes hurt like knives, they demanded, commanded, threatened and saw through Reek.  Whenever he could, he would avoid those eyes, but Ramsay would demand Reek to look him in the eyes and usually Reek would cry.  Even when he had nothing to hide, he would still cry because staring into his Master's eyes made him feel stripped and flayed. 

Reek tries to obey always, he takes care never to displease his Master.  If he does make a mistake, he never begs to be released from his punishment.  In stages, Reek came out of the dungeons, into the kennels and now Ramsay is offering hints that soon Reek may be allowed inside the keep itself.  Reek wants to be good, he knows he will never leave here, there is nothing for him anywhere, so he accepts. Or he tries to, so he tells himself.  He hates himself, he hates his name, his wasted, always sore body.  He hates how weak he has become, always trembling, always holding back tears.  A cringing begging little creature and this creature hates its creator most of all.

One morning, as Reek sat quietly in his kennel, awaiting the arrival of Ben, the Bolton's dog handler, when he heard THAT voice telling Ben to send Reek on outside.  Black terror swam through his head and his remaining teeth chattered causing him to whimper.  This is not how mornings go at all.  What had he done wrong?  What mistake did he make, did Ramsay tell him and he forgot?  When Ben opened his cage door and shoved him out roughly, Reek stiffly stood up and wrung his hands, afraid.  He did not move until Ben told him to go outside to Ramsay.  He is a good pet, he does not move without permission.  Maybe he was mistaken, maybe Ramsay knows he tries to be a good pet and will not hurt him.  Reek knows that is a lie. Lying is bad. Reek never lies.

Hobbling, Reek made his way outside, his eyes trying to seek out his Master.  To his confusion, there was a chair, a small table holding a bowl with a cloth on it, his Master and Damon.  He felt his heart pounding, what new torture was this?  Nonetheless, he dare not keep Ramsay waiting, even if it would mean delaying his own pain. He hobbled over and stopped in front of his Lord of Nightmares, head lowered, silent, obedient.  _"Good_ _morning, Reek."  "Good morning, Master."_ His eyes peeked up at his Lord, already forcing himself to hold back tears, Ramsay had told him that he wept too much.  If his Master had to remind him about weeping again, he might lose another piece of him.  He was running low on pieces.  _"I have decided this would be a perfect time for your next lesson.  Remember, I told you the other day, I needed a good servant, Reek.  I meant you.  You are a good dog, an obedient beast, but can you ever learn to serve me around your betters?"_

Shuffling his feet, his head jerking involuntarily in fear, Reek tries to think of the right answer.  _"Master...I want to serve you, to obey, be good."_   Ramsay smiles and speaks as if talking to a rather slow child. _"Reek, I asked if you_ _can learn to serve me.  You are not very smart and you are clumsy, weak of body, weak of mind, aren't you?"_   Reek nodded his head and tried to correct his mistake before pain happened.  _"I am sorry, Master, yes, I can_ _learn to serve you."_ Shrugging, amused, Ramsay simply said, _"We shall find out, and for your sake, Reek, you better show me you can learn to serve."_   Ramsay sat down in the chair and gestured to Damon, who grabbed Reek and moved him to stand between the chair and table.  _"Take the cloth off the bowl, Reek."_ With his mangled fingers, he gingerly plucked the cloth up, thinking some sort of horror awaited him.  Seeing the small brush, shaving cream in a smaller bowl confused him, however the glittering, sharp razor had his full attention.  Whimpers escaped his throat and the tears burned in his eyes. _"Hold them back, do not let the tears fall, do not scream or run in a panic.  You want to obey, to serve, to show Ramsay that you are worthy of his training so that the pain will maybe stop or lessen."_ Ramsay watched, his piercing, seeking eyes taking in every single emotion and thought Reek had.

 _"A good servant knows how to tend to his Master personally.  Shine his boots, clean the Master's clothing and be able to give a good, close shave.  I am sure that even a dim boy like you can figure out cleaning boots and clothing, can't you?"_ Swallowing down his tears and terror left a huge rock in Reek's throat that he had to fight past to answer.  _"Yes, Master, I can shine boots and clean your clothing. I can. I will."  "Now, today, you will_ _learn how to shave me.  Damon is here in case you make any mistakes, Reek.  You do not want to make mistakes while shaving me, do you?"_ Shaking his head frantically, trying so hard not to cry and one sob escapes. _"No_ _I do not want to make a mistake, ever, please, though, Master....my hands, they tremble, I am afraid to try"_ He holds out his hands to show Ramsay the shaking, mangled hands.  Ramsay simply looked at Reek, a look that showed no mercy, no quarter and promised agony if not heeded.  Ramsay pinned his pet with this look and made a movement as if he were about to lunge out of the chair.  With a wail of fear, Reek threw himself onto his bruised knees, ignoring the blast of pain, and worshiped his dark deity.  _"Please, forgive me, Master.  I want to learn, I will shave you, please don't hurt me...allow me to try, I am so sorry."_ he babbled, some tears trailing hot down his cheeks.  He lost again, here are the tears, he did not move quick enough and his hands were still shaking.  He lost and waited for the pain.

Ramsay leaned down and wiped away his cringing pet's tears as he and Damon laughed at the pathetic beggar.  Gently now, voice laced with cruel humor, Ramsay chastised his pitiful slave for crying again, but it was only words.  No fists, boots, knives or whips came for him.  It was a relief and it was making the anticipation worse, because kindness was not normal, it usually led to a game or trick, which Reek would lose. _"I hope you_ _understand how grateful you should be for my patience today.  I should punish you for trying to delay an order by whining about trembling hands.  Yet, I understand that you do not know any better, why would a nasty little thing like you understand manners?  So you will be taught and for now, I shall be a patient teacher.  Do not use up my patience, Reek."_ Damon came up behind the little cringing freak and lifted him to his feet and positioned him in between the chair and table again.  This time, Reek tried taking deep breaths to control his trembling, he gently poured small amounts of warm water from the bowl onto Ramsay's lower face and neck.

While he added the shaving cream, Reek thought how much he hated Ramsay, how he hated touching him, looking at him, just being close made his skin crawl.  Then those eyes opened, looked up and Reek froze in place, his lungs feeling sucked of all air.  What if his Master had seen the bad thoughts?  Yet, Ramsay simply stared, letting his eyes say volumes, letting those brilliant orbs scorch any thoughts of rebellion or bad thinking right out of Reek's mind.  Timidly, Reek tried to avoid the glare and finished adding the cream to his Master's face.  Swallowing a whimper, Reek approached the razor.  So shiny, so deadly, Reek knew all too well, how sharp blades felt cutting through thin skin and how could he even lift it?  He could feel the weight of Ramsay's eyes, the sheer force of his will and it dominated over over him.  Using his left hand to clutch his right, Reek ever so slowly and carefully picked up the blade.  The wooden handle felt so foreign in his hands and though it was light, it felt so heavy, it got heavier the more Reek tried to force his hands to stop trembling.  Unable to help it, he starts to hyperventilate.

Ramsay sighed and rolled his eyes, Damon was smirking in disgusted amusement.  Trying so hard, ever so hard to calm himself, to stop shaking like a newborn calf and all that hate he felt for Ramsay, turned onto himself, burning, smothering.  _"Reek, I am losing patience with you.  Do you need Damon to assist you?"_   Forcing himself to pretend calmness, Reek pleaded as he inches closer with the razor, held awkwardly away from himself, as if it would attack him on its own.  _"No, Master, I was just trying to make my hands still.  I am afraid of cutting you, I want to obey.  I am good, Master, please."_   Scoffing, Ramsay beckoned his reluctant servant to hurry and as his eyes marked his prey, he responded. _"You will not cut me, Reek, because you would never dare to.  Now, get to it.  No more delays or Damon will strip the skin off of your scrawny body until you weep blood.  Do you understand, Reek?"_ Trying to keep the razor steady, Reek nods and prepares to fail, then hurt.  

To his own amazement, Reek managed to shave the left half of Ramsay's face without incident. As Damon and Ramsay joked about how it was the slowest, gentlest shave ever given, at least Reek seemed capable of the job.  It was when Reek began to shave his Master's lower right jaw that his mind just went bad.  He tried to not think of slicing the sharp steel right through the smooth skin, like butter, so easy and quick.  Ramsay would flow red and die, those terrible eyes would go blank forever.  Damon would kill Reek instantly and he could only hope that when he ran into Ramsay in hell, it would be both of them screaming, not just Reek.  These thoughts made him nervous that those eyes would find the treacherous thoughts swimming in Reek's eyes.  This filled Reek with icy fear, which made his hands tremble.  As soon as Reek knew his hands were shaky, he tried to move away with the razor, but he was too slow, too awkward and clumsy.  The tiniest of nicks, just one single bead of bright red blood, then the EYES, OH GODS THE EYES!  Even as Reek started to scream and bleed from Damon's whip, all he could see were the eyes. 

It took time and Ramsay patience, but eventually, his Reek learned how to give a good, close shave with steady hands.  Reek's eyes would remain dry and he no longer tried to avoid his Master's gaze. Allowing Ramsay's eyes to penetrate without flinching because there were no more bad thoughts, no more lies, nothing but submission.  Ramsay's eyes were always commanding, hurting deeply in Reek's brain, but Reek's eyes were empty except for exactly what his Master wanted to see.  The razor was sharp and the mangled hand guided it expertly.  Damon was no longer needed during shaving, Reek was allowed the wonderful privilege of serving  his Master in the keep.  Sometimes, when the pain was very bad, when a mistake had been made and Reek was shivering, waiting for the punishment, he still thought of the razor.  He thought of opening his own veins, he thought of cutting Ramsay's throat.  Yet, when he holds the razor in his hands, when Ramsay's throat is offered up to the blade, Reek knows he is just a coward and he shaves obediently.  

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Episode 2 of Season 4, the scene of Reek shaving Ramsay, of course! Please, let me know what you all think.


End file.
